


Here With Me

by Kuukkeli



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 21:29:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5431427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuukkeli/pseuds/Kuukkeli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nightmares? No worries, Drift makes it all better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here With Me

He still couldn’t believe they had gotten themselves into this mess. How had this happened?

His transformed body sat motionless on the floor, not too far away while his decapitated head had been placed on a rack attached to the wall. If he put enough effort into it, he could peer down and see his spark hanging by several cables and the main line from his neck.

Wing watched at his body in horror, unable to do anything about it. There was a swoosh sound in the room as the door opened, allowing entrance to a rather large mech without any distinctive features. The mech carried something in his arms, something heavy and limp. The lighting in the room was dim but it was enough for Wing to catch a glimpse of a pair of finials and a bi-colored paintjob.

Dread crawled into his spark, the suffocating anxiety squeezing it in a death grip.

“Drift...” he gasped. If only he had his body, he’d be reaching for the unconscious mech, perhaps even attacking the towering mech for touching him.

The stranger remained silent and dumped Drift on the floor, the clattering noise deafening in the cramped space. Then, he went to fetch something from the corner. When he came back, Wing saw what he carried and panic flared in his spark and now, more than anything, he wished he had his body.

The rod was struck to a hole in the floor in the middle of the room. The mech came to the grounder and hoisted him on his shoulder.

“Don’t touch him!” Wing yelled, frantic and panicking, “Don’t do this!”

The large mech ignored the white mech completely as he grabbed Drift by his waist and lifted him up...

And rammed him down on the rod, impaling him. The scream that tore from the bi-colored mech’s vocalizer froze Wing’s spark. The rod was only couple of ten centimeters in before the sparkless mech came and forced Drift onto the rod, the sound of crunching insides, squealing metal and shrieks of pain filling the small room.

Wing couldn’t switch his audios off because of an inhibitor on the back of his neck and was forced to listen to the noises. Fortunately, he was able to close his optics but then again, what good did it do? He still heard Drift, crying and screaming!

Drift was pushed further down, his insides either shifting out of the way or getting crushed by the rod. Then there was a sudden stop; the rod stopped at the bottom of his spark chamber. A little nudge downwards and his spark would be skewered. That’d bring the relief to his agony and he’d escape this hell-on-earth.

But he wasn’t one for luck. He was lifted and moved a bit and the blunt tip of the rid pushed past his spark and through his throat before penetrating through his left optic socket. The optic popped out of its socket and was left hanging from its connector on his cheek, dark and shattered. He uttered a weak groan of pain, energon welling from his gaping mouth.

Wing was beyond horrified. His vocalizer glitched and spat static. His processor stalled. His world shattered at the sight of Drift. He couldn’t take his gaze away from the dying, _suffering_ mech. It made him want to die as well.

The speedster was impaled to the rod, energon and other fluids dripping onto the floor, a gurgling hiss bubbling from the stuffed throat. His remaining optic flickered before the light faded and darkness took over. His limbs twitched for a short moment and then settled, falling limp.

“No! Drift, no!” Wing cried out, tears blurring his vision and finally streaming down his cheeks.

The finials drooped and the body sagged around the rod, lifeless and gray.

“No!”

Wing startled himself awake with his desperate cry. He heard the roar of his own vents in the dark room. His and Drift’s shared berthroom. Sighing in relief, he sank back down into the berth, cycling a deep breath through his vents.

The jet turned to look at the mech beside him and reached his hand to brush his fingers against Drift’s arm. It felt strangely cold and Wing propped himself up on his elbows to take a better look... Or at least he tried to but his body refused to comply, leaving him nailed to the berth.

Drift stirred and turned around.

The sight took Wing’s breath away. He tried to scream but nothing came out, not even a choked whimper.

Drift crawled on top of the white mech, the tip of the rod jutting out of his left optic socket. A stertorous breath wheezed through his vents and open mouth, his one-eyed gaze staring down at the petrified jet. Fluids dripped on Wing’s face, smelling and filthy, an occasional bubble bursting and droplets splattering onto the berth.

“Wiiiiiiiiing...” Drift groaned, his voice weak and wheezing.

Wing tried to scream again but his vocalizer remained mute.

“Wiiiiiing...” the suffering voice called him again, though this time a bit clearer and closer.

Wing’s body obeyed his command to move finally and he thrashed, attempting to throw the other mech off. His hand hit something solid and a quiet grunt reached his audios. Then hands grabbed his shoulders and grounded him, keeping him in place as a voice broke through the thick cloud of nightmare.

“Wing! Wake up”, Drift said, firmly but in soft tone. The rod disappeared and the horrifying, mangled face faded into the familiar features of the bi-colored mech, his finials drooping in worry. His optics – _both_ optics, blue and full of life – shone brightly in the dark room, illuminating Wing’s face and his audio flares.

The white mech gasped and his optics snapped open, his body flinching as he woke up from his nightmare-ridden recharge. His hands came up to cup Drift’s face, inspecting it carefully.

“Drift...” he whispered, shaken, his body shivering.

“It’s okay, I’m here”, the grounder said, “You had a nightmare. You were twitching and sounded frantic. You also sucker-punched me to the side while I was trying to wake you up”, he snorted at the last part and extended his field to caress against Wing’s, projecting safe/I’m here/affection to sooth the jet.

Wing pulled the speedster closer, their foreheads touching, as if to assure himself that Drift was really there and alive. A shaky breath escaped his vents as he closed his optics and basked in the warm glow that wafted from Drift. The bi-colored mech lied down on top of Wing and allowed himself to be embraced tightly, tugging his head under the jet’s chin, a lazy purr rumbling from his engine.

“I’m here”, he repeated, his voice quiet and soft, his weight a comforting element on Wing.

It was very early in the morning and Wing didn’t feel like recharging anymore so he decided to stay awake. He sighed and tightened his embrace.

“Can’t recharge?” Drift asked, adjusting his head more comfortably.

“No”, was the simple reply. The grounder felt a wave of anxiety roll over him and he drowned it under a pulse of comfort, shifting a little to nuzzle Wing’s cheek.

He kissed the cheek, savoring the feeling of Wing’s warmth on his lips and for that, he earned a little reward from the white mech, their lips meeting in a soft kiss.

“Feeling better?” the bi-colored mech asked after breaking the kiss.

“A bit, yes, thanks to you”, Wing replied.

“You wanna an early morning energon?”

“All I want is to hold you”, the jet said, leaving no room for objections.

“Fine by me”, Drift shrugged and settled down, burying his face into Wing’s neck.

They stayed awake, chatting about nothing in particular, until the white mech’s exhaustion from having his recharge interrupted by the hideous nightmare claimed him eventually, despite his decision to stay up. Drift smiled as he listened to the calm sounds of Wing’s systems and he was lulled into recharge.

\----

In the morning, when Drift woke up, it was already bright outside. The artificial day lights of the New Crystal City pierced through the closed blinds of the window. He blinked his optics, squinting as the scattered light hit his bleary vision. Groaning, he turned his face away from the window, refusing to get up yet.

His slight movements made Wing stir in his sleep. Apparently he was still lying on top of the white mech as he felt faint vibrations under him... Also, there was a wet spot under his cheek. Oops.

Both of them was just barely awake and neither bothered to bid good morning to each other. Just the way their fields were meshed together was enough. Half-awake, the bi-colored mech snaked his arms under Wing’s and returned the hug he was closed in.

After some time, Wing yawned and stretched as best as he could with his over-sized plushie sprawled on top of him. A smile found its place on his lips and a tired raspy laugh rolled from his lips. Now it was Drift’s turn to stretch his stiff limbs. After gaining proper functioning and circulation in his arms and legs, the speedster planted kisses on Wing’s chest and neck, travelling up until he sealed his lips together with the other mech.

One kiss turned into several more, though remaining closed mouth and chaste. A duet of faint purrs broke the silence and both mech chuckled, smile against smile.

“You’re in a cuddly mood all of a sudden”, Wing purred after they ended the kiss.

“I wanted to make you feel better”, Drift admitted, his finials pulled back in a relaxed angle.

The white mech’s field bloomed with deep affection and gratefulness towards the other mech and he closed Drift into a warm embrace. Drift’s purring got louder as he was enveloped with the jet’s arms and field. His plan of making Wing feel better was a success.

While being this close to Drift in a warm berth, Wing canceled all the scheduled activities for today – training, going to the library and attending to a meeting with other knights – in order to spend the whole day with him.


End file.
